


Perfect Hindsight

by HixyStix



Series: 2020 Kalluzeb Appreciation Week [8]
Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars: Rebels
Genre: Idiots in Love, Lust, M/M, Pining, Post-Episode: s03e21-22 Zero Hour, Pre-Season/Series 04, more pining than a forest, oh the pining, vaguely, zeb is a naughty boy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-08
Updated: 2020-05-08
Packaged: 2021-03-02 20:07:28
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,720
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24052585
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HixyStix/pseuds/HixyStix
Summary: How many Rebels does it take to change a lightbulb?Two, but without a ladder, complications abound.
Relationships: Alexsandr Kallus/Garazeb "Zeb" Orrelios
Series: 2020 Kalluzeb Appreciation Week [8]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1714975
Comments: 20
Kudos: 158
Collections: Kalluzeb appreciation week 2020.





	Perfect Hindsight

**Author's Note:**

  * For [sempaiko](https://archiveofourown.org/users/sempaiko/gifts).



> This supposedly fills the prompt "Mutual/Confused Pining" for the 2020 Kalluzeb Appreciation Week, but it's more just straight-up thirst.
> 
> This is based on an amazing piece of art by Sempaiko, who has been my muse for so much of the week, posted [here on tumblr.](https://sempaiko.tumblr.com/post/617595893348286464/how-many-rebels-does-it-take-to-screw-in-a) Please go shower it with love!
> 
> Thank you to [Anath_Tsurugi](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Anath_Tsurugi/pseuds/Anath_Tsurugi) and [whiplashcrash](https://archiveofourown.org/users/whiplashcrash/pseuds/whiplashcrash) for betaing this!

In retrospect, Zeb noted, asking Kallus to help him fix the wiring for the exterior lights of the _Ghost_ was a _terrible_ idea.

It had begun innocently enough. At breakfast, Hera mentioned that a light had gone out and the others were flickering over the _Ghost_ ’s ramp. Zeb, being the tallest, naturally volunteered to check it out.

Unfortunately, it wasn’t as simple as changing a bulb and the primary wiring panel was too far off the ground for even a fully-stretched-out lasat to reach. Zeb could have searched for a ladder, but practical items like that were surprisingly hard to get a hold of on Yavin 4. The logical thing had been to ask the next-tallest crew member to help him.

Kallus had agreed easily, though he claimed not to be skilled at electrical work.

“It’s okay,” Zeb reassured him. “I’ll hold you up and walk you through it. You _can_ follow directions, right?”

Shooting him an irritated half-smile, Kallus crossed his arms. “I believe I’m better at following directions than you have ever been in your life, Garazeb.”

Zeb returned the grin. “I’d take that bet,” he said, remembering his days training for the Honor Guard.

And that was it. Kallus showed up at the appointed time, ready to work. The jungle was muggy and warm that day, so he shed his jacket, leaving him clad only in cargo pants and t-shirt that was almost tight enough to look painful.

Sweat snaked its way through Zeb’s fur, but it had nothing to do with the heat.

“Well?” asked Kallus. “Show me what we need to do.”

“Um?” Zeb was temporarily lost for words, too distracted by the sun and shadows playing across Kallus’s arms as he pushed his sleeves up. He hadn’t seen those muscles since Kallus’s Imperial uniform days. He’d forgotten just how… strong the human was.

“Yavin 4 to Zeb,” Kallus said, the slightest smile appearing. “You okay?”

“Oh. Um. Yeah, sorry. Thinking,” Zeb said, recovering. He pointed out the wiring panel above them. “So there’s a coupla loose wires in there, I think. I’m gonna tell you how to fix them, if you don’t get yourself electrocuted trying.”

“Do you have so little faith in my abilities? I think I can handle a little detailed work.”

 _Stars_ , Zeb would like to find out just what kind of detailed work those hands could manage.

“Fine,” Zeb said. “Just warning you, the _Ghost_ is temperamental sometimes.”

Kallus looked amused. “Tell me what I need to do, Zeb.”

“Right. Um.” Zeb looked around, as if a ladder might have suddenly appeared in the vicinity. No such luck. “Okay, c’mere. I’m gonna pick you up so you can reach. You’ll need a screwdriver to open the panel.”

The sight of Kallus bending over to dig through the toolbox, shirt riding up his back, was either a gift from the Ashla itself or a Bogan demon sent to torment Zeb. Possibly both at the same time.

If that was bad, worse was the moment Kallus walked up to Zeb, arms spread. “I’m ready,” he said. “Let’s do this.”

Zeb nodded. Time to jump into the supernova. He bent and wrapped his arms around Kallus’s thighs and lifted the man into the air, high enough Kallus almost hit his head on the _Ghost_ ’s hull.

“Careful!”

“Sorry,” Zeb mumbled. 

Kallus stretched up, biting his lip as he focused on unscrewing the proper panel.

At that exact moment, Zeb realized just what a _horrifically bad idea_ this had been.

His arms were wrapped around Kallus’s thighs – yes, he had expected that – but he hadn’t thought about the fact that Kallus would naturally situate himself in a position where he was practically sitting on Zeb’s arms. Meaning, of course, that Zeb actually had an armful not of thighs, but of attractive human male ass.

Kallus’s legs were long enough that he was _almost_ kneeing Zeb and the light brush of motion across the front of his pants as Kallus worked was causing a different kind of motion inside Zeb’s pants.

Worst of all, Kallus’s shirt wasn’t long enough, granting Zeb an up-close-and-personal view of his lower abdomen, coarse dark hair peeking dangerously out from the top of Kallus’s pants. Zeb couldn’t help but get a noseful of a beautiful, alluring musky smell that he was sure would torment him for nights to come.

Karabast was not the right word any more. Sith-damned fucking hells was closer, but still not strident enough.

Kallus fidgeted slightly in his arms, only making things worse. “Zeb? Are you going to tell me what to do?”

 _Oh. Kriff._ He’d completely forgotten _why_ he was holding Kallus. He glanced up to see what Kallus had to work with, hoping his pupils weren’t blown as wide as they felt. It took him a few seconds to remember he had to look at the wiring and not Kallus’s face.

“That orange wire,” he said, nearly muttering because he didn’t trust his voice not to crack. “You need to make sure it’s seated properly. And then check the brown one. It was loose last time I did this.”

Thank the Ashla, he’d managed to speak coherently without giving away what was really happening inside his head.

Kallus nodded and set back to work, the look of concentration on his face just fueling the daydreams bombarding Zeb’s imagination.

He was so close. It wouldn’t take anything, really. Just a tug on Kallus’s belt buckle with his teeth – he could rip it off so easily, use those same teeth to work his pants open and…

Well, Zeb didn’t know what sort of underwear Kallus preferred, but he could get that taken care of too, no matter the choice.

And there, right at the perfect level, would be Kallus’s cock.

How easy, then, to take it in his mouth, to distract Kallus so completely from his work that he had no option but to cry Zeb’s name.

Kallus had _no_ idea how dexterous a lasat tongue really was.

Zeb was dying to show him.

It wouldn’t take long, Zeb was sure. He’d have Kallus writhing in his arms within minutes, both from Zeb’s ministrations and the absolute filthiness of being out in the open, visible to the entirety of the Rebellion.

If Kallus writhed enough, Zeb might come in his pants, untouched, he realized. He was _that_ lost in the man’s smell and feel and the heat coming off his body in waves. They would both be trapped, tormenting each other, until inevitably Kallus would scream Zeb’s name – the most wonderful sound Zeb could imagine – and spill into his mouth, shaking and sweating and lost in the utter ecstasy of the moment.

Zeb would swallow everything Kallus could give him, gladly, as many times as he could get Kallus to come.

Perhaps Zeb should have studied up on humans a little more, discovered just how many orgasms he could expect to wring out from the most beautiful man he’d ever seen. He’d correct that later; right now he was too busy imagining the salty taste and feel of Kallus’ come sliding down his throat.

He didn’t realize he’d started growling, low and deep and quiet, too lost in the daydream to notice Kallus watching him with a peculiar expression on his face.

“Zeb? Are you– Are you okay? Am I hurting you? Do you need to set me down?”

Kallus’s worried tone brought Zeb back to himself. The growl was abruptly cut off in his throat and he dry swallowed to cover his embarrassment.

“’M good,” he grumbled. “How’s the wiring?”

“All done.” Kallus glanced back up long enough to finish screwing the panel closed. He lowered a hand, brushing it timidly along Zeb’s beard. “Are you sure you’re okay? You look like you got a little lost there.”

Zeb’s fur prickled, rising on his back and chest and up into his face, the lasat equivalent of a human blush. “Toldja, I’m fine.”

Kallus frowned, but did not move his hand. “You look like we just went a round in the bedroom instead of fixing some wires together.”

Fur rippling again, Zeb sought desperately for some way to get out of this conversation. “Kal…”

“That’s what you were thinking, right?”

“Kal…” he repeated, at a complete loss for other words.

“Zeb, you’re hard. I can feel it. Answer me.”

Carefully, Zeb set Kallus down on the ground and backed up, pulling away from his hand. “I’m sorry,” he said quietly, scratching the back of his head awkwardly. “I couldn’t help–” He cut himself off, recognizing there really was no excuse.

Kallus never broke eye contact, but stayed silent, contemplative.

“I’ll finish up here, if you want to go,” Zeb said.

“No.”

Zeb startled. “What?”

Kallus took a step closer to him. “I said no, I’m not leaving.” He tossed the screwdriver to the ground. “Do you know just how long I have _wanted_ you? How you have driven me crazy ever since Atollon? Since Bahryn? And now I find out you have the same thoughts? That all this time, we could have–”

“We could have,” Zeb echoed. “Karabast, Kal, are you saying what I think you’re saying?”

“I’m saying that I want you to bed me. Now.”

The growl in Zeb’s throat returned unbidden. “My bunk,” he grunted. “I want you in my bunk.”

Kallus narrowed his eyes and grinned slyly. “I think we can aim higher. I want you in every room of the _Ghost._ This ship eluded me for years; it’s high time I take it as my own.”

Oh, _fuck._

Zeb was so kriffing screwed, head over heels in love and lust and everything in-between. There was no way out of this pit he’d dug, but for some reason, Kallus was crawling down to join him.

“Well, then?” Kallus asked, cocking his head. “Are you going to fuck me or are you just going to stand there thinking about it?”

What a stupid question. Zeb reached out for Kallus’s hand, looking around to make damned sure Hera was nowhere to be seen. “I hope you know what you’re doing,” he said. “Because I’m not letting you out of this, ever.”

“Bring it on.”

Oh yes. Zeb was _fucked_ , in all the best ways.

He really should have asked Kallus for help sooner.

**Author's Note:**

> I am a wimp and did not title this "The Lightbulge" as I was dared.
> 
> Come find me on tumblr and flail over Rebels and Kalluzeb! [hixystix](https://hixystix.tumblr.com/) is my main blog, and [x-wing-junkie](https://x-wing-junkie.tumblr.com/) is my _Star Wars_ blog. New friends always welcome!


End file.
